A Very Brown Mess

 Roberta and Patrick were cooking gravy. They hardly ever cooked, though, so they sucked a lot. First the gravy was too moist, then too flaky, then too hairy.

 'Let's go and deposit this through someone's door, like teenage vandals,' said Roberta.
 

 On paper this sounded like a fine idea. What could possibly go wrong? They put all the gravy in a bag with a big dollar sign on it (to avoid suspicion) and headed towards the nearest neighbor's house.
 On the way they were repeatedly kicked by an ostrich that needed money for cigarettes. Their mother always told them the best way to deal with a mugger is to ignore him: He's just looking for attention.
  When they arrived at the castle (their neighbors were mostly kings and dukes), Patrick's legs were pretty crenelated from all the kicking, but at least the ostrich appeared to be getting tired.
 The three of them looked up. The castle was so long its top was penetrating the clouds. It was pretty hot.
  "Okay, let's not charge in there prematurely," said Patrick. "We need a plan...."
 "What are we doing?" asked the ostrich.
 "We came to, uh, conquer this castle in the name of France," he recalled.
  Roberta, meanwhile, had already climbed to the top and lowered a rope ladder made of the guards' intestines. Who knew she was so skillular?

 Patrick made to climb up the ladder-o-guts, but the ostrich followed him.

 'Not you, ostrich!' he shouted it down.

 Ostrich looked down at its feet and stayed in place.

 When he made it to the top, Roberta was waiting for him with the gravy. She was holding it over a winding staircase that disappeared down the castle.

 'This is gonna be frickin awesome!' they screamed.

 The gravy went 'weeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESPLASH' down the castle.

 'Young whippersnappers!' came a shaky voice from below.

 'Cheese it!'

 But they did not cheese successfully. Before they knew it they were clapped in irons in a dungeon at the bottom of the castle.

 They told jokes in an attempt to pass the time before they grew old and died here (because they weren't a very optimistic couple).

 'Okay, okay, I've got one,' said Patrick. 'Why did the salesman walk into the...'

 'OSTRICH!' Shouted Roberta. 

 'No, no, dear, that's penis-talk, you have no idea how this joke goes.'

 Before Roberta could explain how much of a total bitchfacedicktacular Patrick was being, the ostrich smashed its way through the window (because all castles have windows, DON'T CRITICIZE MY WORK!). The sunny sunlight streamed into the dungeon.

 They jumped onto the ostrich's back, and he flew them to safety (again, OSTRICHES CAN TOTALLY FLY LOOK IT UP ON WIKIPEDIA).
 

 Then they all had spaghetti hoops for dinner and went to bed happy. 

 So the moral of this tale is: don't judge an ostrich on him crenelating your legs, because he might turn out to be rather heroic.